Anaesthesia
by hashtagartistlife
Summary: "If I'd been a better man than you, I would have protected them." [Ichiruki]


**Written for a tumblr prompt + pairing meme. The prompt was 'must be a day ending in y'.**

* * *

 **Anaesthesia**

by _hashtagartistlife_

"You're drunk."

Ichigo raises the bottle to his lips and takes another swig. "Yeah, must be a day ending in y."

"You know what day it is."

"You tell me, Renji. What is it? A Tuesday? A Thursday?"

Renji's lips tighten. "It's an anniversary."

Ichigo laughs. "An anniversary! That ends in a y, too." He sways a little as he makes for the cupboard and pulls another bottle of alcohol out; Renji snatches it out of his hands and puts it down on the table with a _thud._ "What the fuck, asshole?"

"I said," Renji hisses, and any other man would have been just a _bit_ cowed, the way his lips are bared over his teeth— "it's an _anniversary."_

Ichigo just scowls right back at him. "Why the fuck else do you think I was drinking?"

"I thought you were drinking because it's a day ending in y."

Ichigo grins. "Precisely! Now you're getting it. Now leave me the fuck alone, I like to do my drinking alone." He reaches for the bottle, and Renji hits his hands away. "Oi! That _hurt,_ fuckwad!"

"Enough." Renji's face is thunderous, _dangerous_ , but Kurosaki Ichigo doesn't look the least bit fazed. "This ends _today_ , Ichigo, you hear me? Look at yourself! It's been a _year_ now, and all you've been doing is drinking and moping—"

There's a sword at his throat faster than he can blink; Ichigo's face, devoid of emotion, is inches from his. Zangetsu's edge is sharp and unbalanced at his jugular. "Don't tell me how long it's been," he says, and the dead tone sends something cold trickling down Renji's spine. "In fact, don't talk to me at all. Deal?"

Renji says nothing. Eventually, the sword is withdrawn; Renji lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding and rubs his throat.

"Besides," Ichigo says, conversational, "Looks like even while I'm drunk and moping I can still kick your ass, hmm?"

"Shiba-taichou wasn't like this," is all Renji can think to say.

Ichigo snorts. "My _father,"_ he says, dragging the second word out and making it sound like an insult, "still had me around. My sisters to live for. Who do I have, Renji? Who the fuck do I have left?"

There's a silence.

"You," Renji eventually replies, "She left you _you_. Her, and your child, too; they died for _you_."

A glass shatters against the wall by his head; Renji does not flinch. "Shut—shut the _fuck_ up—" Ichigo breathes, voice ragged; Renji looks on dispassionately. "They—I—It should have been me instead—"

"But it wasn't." Another glass shatters against the wall, raining down shards and droplets of alcohol. Renji presses on. "She left you _you_ to live for, Ichigo, so god help me, you better start _living_."

"What the fuck does this look like to you, then?!" Ichigo yells, gesturing wildly at the air around him. He holds up his bottle of liquor. "What the fuck does this look like to you if not trying to goddamn _live_?"

"That," Renji says flatly, "looks like the exact damn opposite."

Ichigo laughs again, a little wilder. "Well, for _give_ me if we can't all be like you, Mr. _Thirteenth Division Captain_ , forgive me if her death had an _effect_ on some of us, _I'm_ not the one with forty years of practise pretending she doesn't exist, after all—"

This time, it's Ichigo that's slammed against the wall, a sword at his neck; but unlike him, Renji's face is distorted with pent-up emotion. Ichigo curls his lip up into a sneer.

"Pushed a button there, did I? Does it hurt, _still_? Forty goddamn years, Renji, and you expect me to get over this in _one_?"

There's a silent stalemate for a while, broken only by the sounds of their heavy breathing; neither of them are willing to give.

"She chose _you_ ," Renji whispers eventually, slowly taking his sword away— "she chose _you,_ so I thought that meant you'd be a better man than me." He sheathes the sword without breaking eye contact. "I thought you'd be a better man than _this._ "

Ichigo's expression twists as he looks away first. "If I'd been a better man than you, I would have protected them."

There's nothing said between them for a long while.

"Yeah—" Renji says, as he finally turns to leave, "—yeah, I suppose you would have."

He doesn't say anything as Renji's reiatsu fades away into the distance. Slowly, he curls his fingers around a new bottle of liquor; for a moment, his hand twitches in the direction of the sink as if to pour the contents of the bottle down the drain and throw it away. He clenches his fist, the tendons prominent against the skin for a second, then two as he contemplates—

He lifts the bottle to his lips.


End file.
